


Thin Ice

by GLiTCH_R



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Blushing, Bucky Barnes - Freeform, Captain America - Freeform, Childhood Memories, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Lights, Cold, Coping with PTSD, First Christmas, Fluff, Good Partner Influence, Guilt, Healing, Ice, Ice Skating, Kissing, Long Hair, Love, M/M, Making Out, Mentions of PTSD, Nervousness, Nicknames, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Pet Names, Pining, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Protective Natasha Romanov, Romance, Running Away, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Severe Stress, Shame, Sleepless nights, Snow, Snow and Ice, Sorrow, Stripping, Supportive Steve Rogers, Swooning, Winter, Worry, adoration, fluff in bed, fond memories, gentle touch, gratitude, keeping secrets, reassurance, respect, self help, steve rogers - Freeform, supportive friends, warm fire, winter soldier - Freeform, ”Kitten”
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-02 14:36:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16788901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GLiTCH_R/pseuds/GLiTCH_R
Summary: Bucky takes to the rink to calm his nerves. Steve tries, but well... Steve tries. And Bucky almost can't take it.





	Thin Ice

The first time Bucky tried it he almost fell flat on his face. Almost. But the second time he took to the ice, it felt a whole lot more natural. Unnaturally natural. But, he supposed, it was probably just another surprise side effect of having survived his time as the "Winter Soldier". It's familiar, in a way, the frosty air, the frozen floor; it's cold in every direction. Something he's felt a lot before. Painful but comforting, in some small way. Perhaps only in the fact that all things considered ice was a thing with which, for seventy years, Bucky had gotten well acquainted.

The first time he had gone was with his friends. Natasha was free, and bored as always, Sam wanted something fun to do to wind down, and Bucky and Steve _needed_ to wind down. When they arrived and got started Nat was more than happy to one-up them all by doing all these amazing moves and tricks on the ice. Sam seemed more keen simply to glide absently around the rink. But for the boys... things didn't go so well. Most of the time it was all they could do to just stand upright for more than a few moments. Each kept a firm hand in the other's as they got their bearings, but the farthest they got was not falling over.

Bucky can remember a few times when they were kids, when the road ways would ice over fierce, and you could practically do a full skating routine right there on the side of the road. He and Steve would be out there for hours, stopping occasionally to get hot chocolate or treat Steve's asthma flare-ups or nestle in by the fire to stop their fingers and toes from getting frostbite.

But that was a century ago. And even _then_ they weren't any good.

After fumbling about on the ice, Steve respectfully admitted that it wasn't his favorite activity. But the jury was still out for Bucky.

The next time he went, he went alone. He wasn't sure why, but he just needed to. The results this time were much more satisfactory. After about the first hour on the ice, he felt like it was almost second nature. He could let his mind wander like Sam had done and just fly around the rink at will. It was surprisingly soothing and he marked it down as something he would definitely do again.

But every time after that Bucky did it to bring himself down from panic. The third time he went after a night terror, the fourth time because of an episode he had after Steven had come home earlier than he said he would, the fifth after a particularly traumatic mission. Sometimes he thought about going even when he just couldn't sleep, but he quickly and ultimately concluded that it wasn't necessary or considerate.

A lot of the time, if he hadn't woken Steve up from his night terror, he could slip out of bed unnoticed and return in the small hours of the morning, and slide right back into Steve's waiting arms like nothing had ever happened. He liked it that way. Where he was alone, where it didn't bother anybody, and he could just pretend he had been there in Steve's warm embrace the whole time.

But nothing gets past Natasha Romanov.

"Been enjoying those trips to the rink?" She catches him just as he's leaving. The sun hasn't even touched the sky yet; only a dim, grey light is on the horizon. Flakes of perfect snow fall from the black sky and land on Buck's head in a way that Nat notes quickly, is a very pretty sight. Barnes' head turns instantly in a startle, and he makes a noise of abashment, almost like he thinks he's not supposed to be there. Where he seemed calm before, he now stands rigid in front of her, still as the ground he's standing on.

His jaw tightens for a brief moment. "Sam said you can have healthy ways of coping with stress. He advised that it may be beneficial to recovery if I find an athletic activity which I enjoy." There's a deadpan in his voice, almost like he's reading off a damn mission report. "But you go on runs and lift weights with Steve every day. You love doing that." She cocks an inquisitive eyebrow.

"I do, but.." Buck's brow furrows as he searches for the words. "This is different."

"Is it?"

"Yes." He's quick to affirm defensively.

"How?"

"I'm not gonna wake Steve up just to go fuckin' ice skating with me." He grumbles, shoving his hands in the pockets of his thin jacket and leaning against the frozen railing. He glances up at her with wet eyes that tell he's immediately sorry for snapping. "You know he'd gladly go with you." Nat says, coming up next to him to show apology accepted.

"That's the problem.." Bucky replies quietly. "Yeah, that would be great of me. 'Hey Steve, I had a silly little nightmare, wanna skip out on sleep tonight to go to the skating rink?'" He fakes in a hushed tone. "He _already_ doesn't get enough sleep. I couldn't do that to him."

"How many times have you gone during the night without telling him?" Natasha asks tenderly.

Bucky doesn't answer for a good long time. "...Twenty." He mumbles.

"Katschen," Nat scolds, and Bucky pales and shrinks away. "I-I know, I know.." He half whimpers. "I'm gonna tell him soon. I decided tonight."

"When's soon?"

Bucky doesn't answer.

"Doesn't sound like a 'healthy way of coping', sneaking out in the middle of the night, not getting any sleep." Nat's brow furrows.

Bucky's silence is even more pensive.

"kotenok, look at me," Natasha takes his frigid silver hand and steps in front of him to meet his gaze. "I know for a fact that Steve will do anything, for your happiness, your love, your well-being. If you don't want him to come with you that's fine, but don't keep this from him. Even if you think it's for his benefit, you don't keep secrets. Even little ones, Schatzchen. You're smart enough to know this."

"I'm just.." Barnes pauses. "I'm waiting for the right time, is all."

Nat smiles lightly to bring the mood up. "Oh please Bucky, when have you ever waited for the right time to do anything?" She succeeds as Bucky smiles softly, his eyes lifting a little. "Well, I'm tryin' to change that, I guess."

"Good." Nat concludes, and she kisses him sweetly on the forehead.

They stay there for a while, hand in hand, their backs to the colorful little lights below.

"Steve will be waking up soon. I should get back." Buck resolves with a sigh. Natasha lets go of his hand which has warmed up by now, and lets him start on his way.

"Bucky," She calls after him.

He looks content as he turns back, the top of his head and his jacket wet with melted snow. He looks content, his pale face and those rosy cheeks brought out by the cold. "I know, golubushka, I'll tell him. Soon."

It's the day after that when Bucky gets the chance.

The snow has been falling nonstop since the day before yesterday and has piled up quite considerably on the lawns and sidewalks. The appartment is a little nippy, which is the second thing Bucky notices when he starts to wake up. The first is that Steve isn't in bed. Buck calls out softly, half asleep, half awake as he spreads his arms out to find the warmth he needs from his other half.

Two calloused yet soft hands gently cup his face and he knows them anywhere as he opens his eyes. "Stevie." He mumbles, with a satisfied smile.

"Morning, hon'. This time you slept later than me." Steven's voice is heavenly in Barnes' sleepy state; That glowing face and those warm strong hands. And that smile— a smile he could kill for. He _would_ kill for. Bucky sees it and suddenly all is right with the world.

"You got out early." Buck returns with a cheeky smirk.

"Yeah, but for a good reason. C'mon get up, there's a fire and some fresh coffee in the living room," Rogers hums, drawing up Bucky's hand in his own and walking back towards the door. It only takes a yawn before Barnes is back in full sorts and clinging to Steve's hand like it's made of gold. "I love you." He says sappily.

"I love you too, Bucky." Steve grins.

They sit there on the couch in front of the roasting fire for what seems like ages, lazily piled over one another sipping coffee and cocoa. Out the picture window, overlooking the neighborhood, flakes of white fall gently from the deep grey above. Today, out there, where it's not grey, it's white. White-powdered houses, grey brumous clouds, white sparkling fields, grey featureless sky. It's some kind of perfect sight that makes Bucky nervous he might disturb if he and Steve go out today. Strings of Christmas lights line the walls in all different colors, throwing soft reds and blues and greens all around the living room and boxes of ornaments and decorations still lay out for the noble fir tree they have yet to procure.

Bucky doesn't want to say it. He doesn't want to ruin this perfect moment, this calm content feeling he feels in Steve's core, rising and falling beneath hiIm. Barnes decides a cuddly nap is in order first, then he'll be ready. Maybe. He grumbles guiltily into Steve's neck and clings on tighter to him. Steve gladly endulges the embrace, stroking gently down the length of Buck's back and by then, all he could do then was fall asleep once more.

At some point while he was snoozing they lazily changed positions, giving Bucky the perfect opportunity to check his phone while he's on his back. There's a new message from a certain someone.

**_Nat_ **

_Did you tell him yet?_

**_10: 30 a.m._ **

Bucky sighs.

_Not yet. W'ere napping. Just give me a while. -B_

**_12: 20 p.m._ **

_I'm trusting you on this one, Catalus. I know you can do it. -N_

**_12: 22_ _p.m._ **

_I know, it'll happen. Don't worry. -B_

**_12: 23 p.m._ **

Bucky psyches himself out for a few minutes and pretends to stumble upon the skating rink online when he catches Steve looking up at him after a while. He looks down and Steve just has his arms crossed on Bucky's chest, laying there comfortably and looking up at his face like he's the world. Even after more than a year of getting this look on and off almost every day, it _still_ makes him blush.

"Rogers," He says, a little unsteady.

"Hm?"

"Um.." Damn it. He couldn't just go and ruin this with such a nasty thing. "When did you wake up?" He diverts.

"Oh," Steve shifts a little bit, his rosy smile not leaving him. "Just a bit ago. Whatcha up to?"

"Nothin'." Bucky replies, trying his best to sound like he isn't subconsciously nervous.

Steve blinks and his smile widens. "You can tell me, Buck. Whatever it is, remember?"

Those were the words Steve had said nearly eight months ago, when even the slightest look of concern or tension on Bucky's face could mean a sea of emotions or thoughts or words or sometimes all three roiling beneath. How they would all flood out at once eventually, after enough pressure. That's just what happens when nobody lets you express anything at all for seventy years straight. It used to happen at least once a week; Buck would let this little, spiky, hurtful thing build up in him for days, telling Steve he was fine when he asked, and then finally, when he could'nt keep it shut away any longer he'd break down, sometimes even burst into tears with an hours long vent about all the things that pained him over years and years. Pierce, Hydra, Zola, Zemo, his arm, his fall, Steve not being careful, his life in Bucharest, erasing the Winter Soldier, the nightmares, usually a mix of at least half those things— and more—, or all of them, in varying (but large) amounts.

And Steve would sit here with him for _all of it._ Mission be damned, dinner meeting cancelled, plans postponed. Bucky would sob into his lap, or his chest, or his neck, or **any** part of him, really, and Steven would listen to every word, his hand gently rubbing Bucky's back, or holding him securely in his arms, and not ever pulling away or shying back no matter how tightly Buck gripped at his waist or arms or hands or shoulders.

Steven finally broke the vicious cycle when afterwards, he started promise Buck those words. Over and over again, he'd say it: "You can tell me anything, anytime, no matter what it is. Big or small. I promise. I won't get mad, I won't mind. Really. You don't have to bottle yourself up like this anymore, Buck. You deserve to say what's on your mind, when it's on your mind." Since then, the break downs gradually got less heated, and less and less frequent.

Until tonight.

Bless Steve. Bless Steve for being the most patient, caring, loving human being on the planet. Buck _still_ doesn't know how he's fortunate enough to have him.

"...Bucky?"

Bucky looks Steve's face up and down, his head filling with warm, fuzzy thoughts.

"It's— It's nothing really serious.." Bucky doesn't know if that's true or not yet. "But I was thinking, about that ice rink..."

* * *

Of course Steve doesn't say no. Steve never says no to Bucky. But at least he seems amenable to the idea, which makes Buck feel better, a little.

Steve is all smiles to be there, surprisingly. As always, Bucky purposefully picks a time when he knows absolutely nobody will be there. Because no one needs to see him ice skating, as impressive or not as it may be. This is Bucky's little secret. But soon it'll be Steve's little secret, too. He knows he should feel _right_ about it; after all, sharing everything is what you do with your partner, but this little bit of his life that's been starting to eat away at him isn't _really_ valuable or needed information. Plus, it might do more harm to Steve than good. _Steve has enough to worry about. He already worries about me way too much._ But Steve is Steve, and because of that, Bucky just _has_ to tell him. Just... How to do that without coming right out and saying it.

"I warn you, I'm still probably no better at this than last time." Steve jokes as he laces up his boots and hesitantly steps toward the ice.

"Don't worry, I think you'll be fine." Buck reassures, following closely behind. He tries not to sound like his stomach is in loose knot right now.

Steven eases steadily onto the ice doing his best not to slip. Buck has a markedly easier time, but he tries to make it look like he's as new to this as Steve is. For the perfect soldier, Steve has peculiarly poor balance on skates. "Whoa- so what, made you, want to come back?" Rogers asks, apprehension in his voice as he carefully watches his footing. Bucky is wary to keep behind and beside him, slowly gliding along in tow in case Steve slips. And so Steve can't see how much of a struggle he's _not_ having.

Bucky knows this is a good and bad question, good because it gets him closer to telling Steve but in softer way, bad because it also gets him closer to telling Steve at all. Whenever Buck does something like this (something kind of irresponsible and dangerous, something that probably doesn't help him as much as it does, something that kills his sleep schedule and makes him leave in the middle of the night without telling Steve or anyone else where he is or what he's doing, fuck it's kind of painful and awful to think that he's been doing that) Steve always gets a heart attack. Or almost gets a fever from how much he frets and worries. And that's what Bucky is hoping to avoid, because damn it, why do all the things he does that seem harmless at the time end up hurting Steve??

"Bucky?"

"Wha-- O-oh, um..." Buck jolts out of his pensiveness. "I.. I dunno, I guess I just.. It seemed like a nice day to go out." He says. A truth. "I've, uh... actually come here after Sam took us." He adds discreetly.

"Oh?" Steve stumbles before he can finish on some jagged ice and Buck is about to firmly brace him from crashing to the floor, but Steve catches himself. Bucky sighs internally in relief, and slowly, nervously, puts his hands down. "When?" Steve continues.

Buck mulls over an answer and picks his words carefully. "Oh, usually just when it's like it is now."

"You've come.. multiple times? In the middle of the night?" _Fuck._ Steve tries to mask his edging concern and partial confusion but Bucky can heart it clear as crystal. He bites his own tongue stingingly for letting that part slip too soon. _Dumbass._ "Just... here and there, mostly." Buck replies unevenly. "When I.. need to.. relax. Nothing serious." _You **idiot.** It's always serious when you **say** it's 'nothing serious'._

Sure enough, Steve picks up on it just like a thousand times before. "Nothing serious?"

Bucky swallows. "Well... Not.. Really."

_Why do you always have to be a mess for Steve to clean up?_

"You been leaving me in the middle of the night, Bucky?" Steve's brow furrows, not in anger, but in part worry, part bewilderment.

_What an unstable, unhealthy dick you are--_

"Bucky? Honey?" He begins as gently as a feather, making Buck's heart sink and flutter at the same time. "Is there something you're not telling me? Is something wrong?" He puts a hand gingerly on Buck's metal one.

Bucky wants to say so badly that he's fine, that nothing been happening, that nothing's been going wrong, and have it be convincing and _truthful_ , just to put Steve at ease.

Barnes hangs his head, face hidden by his cap. He doesn't want to look up at that perfect face. He doesn't deserve it. Steve's too good for him. Steve's too good _to_ him. But he cradles Bucky's checks, and gently tilts his face up. "Bucky please," Steve does't even need to say it and Buck feels compelled to look up. It breaks Steve's heart a little when he sees how uncertain and frankly, frightened those eyes are.

"Anything, Buck. Remember. You don't need to keep things from me."

He did it again. The one thing Steve had asked him not to do, keep it bottled up, locked away. Bucky clenches his teeth.

"I'm so sorry, Steve, but..."

He takes a deep breath.

"E-every time I have a night terror I can't cope with, I come here, and I don't get any sleep. And, I... I do it a lot, I slip out as quietly as possible, and I spend the night here, and come back before you wake up. I know it's not good for me, and I know I should've told you, Steve, but.. Ugh." Bucky hates himself for stuttering, for making Steve worry, for doing all this in the first place. "I just can't see you worry your head off about me any more."

"Barnes," Steven gives him a solid, grounding kiss. Not hungry, but affectionate, and he hopes Buck can feel all the love he pours into it. "I always worry about you. But that's cause I love you, okay? Sure I would've liked that you told me, but it's not the end of the world."

"I.. I promise Steven, I won't ever do it again."A certain weight comes off his chest, but is replaced by a pit in his stomach.

"Buck..." Steve puts his hands around Buck's arms "It's alright. I'll be alright. You'll be okay. Just... It worries me more when I _don't_ know where you are than when I do. And it worries me more when you _aren't_ taking care of yourself than when you _are,_ Bucky." Steven assures. This makes Buck look even more sorry than before.

"Hey, if you want, I know how you can make it up to me," Steve brushes loose strands of hair out of his face. Buck immediately changes tune, his eyes wide. "What? Anything," He blurts out.

"Well, if you've gone here so many times, I can only assume you've gotten pretty good at skating, right?"

* * *

They spend the hour from nine until ten just getting Steve up and balanced, then Buck takes his hands and slowly but surely leads him around the rink. "..Keep your knees bent, push off to the side of your skates, remember." Barnes instructs timidly.

"I feel like such a klutz," Steve admits, with a rosy-cheeked smile. "You're doing great, I promise." Buck states firmly. He keeps his eyes locked from Steve's blades to his face.

"I'm so sorry I worry you so much." He mumbles, after a beat.

"That's mostly on me, really," Steve chuckles. "Just please, try not to spare me from things like that. I know you don't like to make me feel that way, and Buck it honors me that you care so much, but honesty it makes me feel better when you tell me everything than.. keep things secret." 

"I'm... I'll try harder."

Steven pulls aside clumsily on the ice, and pulls Barnes in close. "Bucky, listen to me. You're doing amazing _right now._ I'm not disappointed, I'm not angry, and you don't have to feel so damn guilty, alright?" The smile Steve gives just makes Buck's heart swell. "I love you. You've made so much progress in the last year already. I'm so damn proud of you, and nothing's going to change that. Ever. Okay? Believe me?"

Bucky just wants to melt, right there in Steven’s arms. “...Always,” He resolves breathlessly. The proud and contented smile Steve gives him is all he needs to assure him that Steve means every word of what he said and it warms Bucky’s cheeks like nothing else. 

“Thank you honey,” Steve lifts Bucky’s baseball cap from his head and places gentle kisses on his hairline. “Thank you so much.”

”...Yeah, no probl—“ Before Buck can finish Steven loses his footing and almost immediately falls brutally to the ground. Almost. Bucky, almost trancelike, whisks Steve into his arms before his legs even have the chance to buckle.

”...I thought I told you to keep your center of gravity level,” Buck states shyly, after enough time passes for both of them to realize that Steven is now firmly in Bucky’s arms. Steve turns a spectacular shade of red, his eyes wide. “..Damn.”

When Bucky made a move to set him down he wrapped his arms around Buck’s neck. “I.. think I like it better right here, if you don’t mind?” Steve smiles, looking like he’s just won the lottery.

Buck starts so smile back, softly. “If you say so.”

He does a few last flowery moves with Steve effortlessly hung in his arms, giggling and smiling from ear to ear like a schoolgirl on a first date. Bucky starts to smile wider too. When he’s with Steve, it doesn’t take long for him to be back to his old self.

Steven carries Buck home just because. He’s in a good mood and he wants to, plus he insists on not allowing Buck to lift a finger until he’s been properly cared for. Pampered for a _week_ , at least. “No more sorries, no more worrying, no more stress.” He says, keeping Buky nuzzled close under his coat. “This month it’s gonna be all about us. _Our_ happiness, _our_ recovery, _our_ needs. After all, it is your first Christmas.” Steve proclaims, with a skip in his step.

”Steve, Christmas is still 24 days away.” Bucky replies with a dreamy smile. He feels blessed and mistified as to how he got this miracle, of being able to rebuild a life with Steven. His life. Their lives. “Well, we’d better get started right away!” Steve concludes with a grin.

When they get home Steve slides Bucky into bed, depositing his cap and a few layers of jackets on the floor which he strategically peeled off between the rink and the apartment. Bucky removes what’s left save his boxers and spreads out like a cat on some pleasantly warm pavement. Steve is only too happy to follow suit and throws off whatever he’s got and practically tumbles into bed. Buck feels warm strong arms wrap around him and he’s all too happy to come flush to his lover. When Steve leans in to close the distance Bucky parts his lips expectantly. Instead however, he meets with a low hum as Steven places gentle, little kisses all over his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, his neck, punctuating each one with a loving statement. “I love you,” _kiss_ “I’m proud of you,” _kiss_ “You’re so strong,” _kiss_ “You’re so beautiful,” _kiss._

 _Beautiful?_ Bucky can’t help how his face lights up pink at this sickeningly sweet affection. “You’re so smart,” _kiss_ “You’re so funny,” _kiss_ “You’re the most amazing, most resilient, most brave person on the planet,” _kiss_ “And I never want you to forget that.” Finally he ends with one long peck at each corner of Bucky’s mouth. “Ever.”

Bucky might cry if he wasn’t so lightheaded. His head empties of all thoughts but Steve, and how unapologetically perfect he is. How is he even supposed to say “thank you” for that? _Can_ he? He’s too star struck to tell and too dizzy to care.

”I... Can I..” Buck doesn’t bother to finish before he closes the distance another time, his heart full. “Always.” Steve hums on his lips, and _God_ this man is too damn perfect. Bucky pulls Steve in, cupping his rosy cheeks and working at him. He tangles his legs loosely around Steve’s thighs and nips at his bottom lip gingerly, asking for an entrance Steven is all too happy to give him.

They go like that until it’s breathless work, tangling together under the softly glowing lights strung around the room, lapping up each other’s taste in waves of hunger and bliss. Steve’s hands run through Bucky’s hair over and over again and Buck can’t help it when he almost purrs at the motion, his hands tugging behind Steve’s back.

”I love you,” Steven moans into parted lips.

Barnes bites his bottom lip to stop him from just fainting right there. Or is it Steve’s lip? He can’t really tell. “I love you too.. I love you so damn much.” He proclaims it forcefully, like nothing could separate them if it tried. And by now, that is true. Buck has spent a year and a half working uphill, ridding himself of old, dangerous habits, finding emotions again, learning how to be a human for the first time in decades. And he’s damn well not going to give up any part of it now, come what may.

If what Steven says is true, and he doesn’t dare think it isn’t, then the only way to look is forward, and the only way to go is up.


End file.
